Long Habits Poems
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The moment I met him it was true love,
I fell into his brown eyes and was lost;
and soon, we fit together like a glove,
into this journey of love sweetly tossed.
Knew, I had met my forever life mate,
and I accepted him with all his flaws;
my true love 'till I stand at Heaven's gate,
though his habits sometimes gave me to pause.
We accept all- there was no need to change,
yes, we had angry moments but could laugh;
for we loved to have a wordy exchange,
over time he became my other half.
I find him now, down a graveyard path paved;
for my true love is but a name engraved.
______________________________
February 4, 2020
Poetry/Sonnet/My True Love
Copyright Protected, ID 02-1317-863-04
All Rights Reserved, 2020, Constance La France
Submitted into the Standard contest, Your Best Sonnet 2020
sponsor, John Hamilton, Judged 01/04/21
Second Place
Mary had a little lamb
The birth was quite a sensation
It should go down in the history books
She needed a lot of sedation
Pinocchio had a very long nose
It grew when telling a lie
Geppetto couldn't keep it from growing
No matter how hard he tried
Three little piggies went tripping along
To the butcher, they were the target
Who was bent on chopping these piggies up
To sell 'em at the local market
Baa baa black sheep have you any wool
Of course the answer is yes
They're sheep, that's a real silly question
Three bags full would be my guess
Hey diddle diddle, the cat and the fiddle
Didn't think cats could play an instrument
Though I've heard some play a viola
That'd be like me climbing trees, the equivalent
Jack be nimble, Jack be quick
At my age, you must be jazzing me
It's been a long time since I was nimble or quick
Was probably just a wee tike of three
Georgie Porgie pudding and pie
The current trend is over eating
No wonder obesity is rampant in the world
Bad habits our kids we've been teaching
Mary had a little lamb
She also had a goat
Mary's been messing with the animals again
Naughty Mary, I here do quote
© Jack Ellison 2015
This just in from our local news team:
A nun was detained by two students after class and forced
to drink a dry martini.
The students, John Peterson and Shirley Kemper
(who wish to remain anonymous) said they began to ask the nun,
Sister Alowiscious ( known on the inside as Sister Mary Sunshine),
about rumors of wild events at the Convent of Holy Pain.
As Sister Mary sipped, the following was revealed.
She spoke of bubble bath parties and dancing conga lines. She
then spilled the tea on clandestine sleepovers and secret
wine tastings. The nuns devised a plan to smuggle bottles
from the nearby rectory in wine bags fastened by rosary beads
attached to the sash under their habits.
She related one instance when wine was obtained at bingo.
A local liquor store had donated a prize basket of cheer.
Sister Benedictate called the numbers on a “ fill-the-card “game
and claimed nobody won, as a ball marked “free space”
had not been drawn from the machine .
She kept the basket amidst boos and jeers from the disgruntled
senior citizens leaving the room.
As if these revelations weren’t enough, Sister Sunshine then
teased that an even more shocking story was forthcoming -
(involving a certain “Sister Superior” and a bake sale!)-
only on condition that she receive a second martini
( with extra olives)!
Stay tuned for more updates from this developing story…..
Overly familiar with her defiance
patterns of fetal alcohol confusion,
neuro-systemic habits of resistance,
I, the consummate ecofeminist,
was sure my daughter felt
I was shutting wounded Ivy out
when she wanted me
to enter her toxic on-line
stream of Sponge Bob consciousness
When she came to me,
in self-care mode,
while I was meditating
reading
reflecting
writing
breathing deeply in,
then out
One gasp for hope
at a new pandemic time,
searching for one hour
without unmitigated despair
at this unhealthy contagion time,
one calming day at a time,
one therapeutic glimpse at a week,
one unimaginable month,
one lifetime of a year,
One retiring stage,
one quickly ancient life,
one emerging seamless love
at this time.
In exasperation
with her insistent interruption
in my sacred space,
I exclaimed
"Ivy, I can't take care of you
if you won't let me
take care of me!"
To which she replied,
"Can I sit here
quietly
next to you?"
I was skeptical,
cynical about cooperative deep breathing
with screaming screen-time Ivy,
but "You may,
if you can"
And so she did
sit next to me
at the head of my bed
where her paraplegic brother slept
post-seizure,
She leaned her black curled head
against my old white man shoulder
peacefully
breathing side by side
And that is how
we resiliently entered
into this passing
evolving
rising and falling,
erupting and disrupting pandemic
of Earth's green
and sacred
virally emergent
health care.
Love has cast it's eye
in mans direction
will I choose it's life
or insurrection
to look upon ones heart
and see what's needed
with it's contemplations
so sweetly seeded
That divinity within
can be created
and formerly in maddness
reject the thing as hated
but so melodious is it's song
I pause to listen
to meditate upon the things
I might be missing
the rapture of it's music
has turned my soul
to meditate upon the things
that make us whole
In wonder I have looked
upon it's face
towards it's calling I want
my heart to race
deftly my mind argues loudly
for it's ejection
rebuild my castles wall
and it's defection
what decision I will make
or what to do
to listen to it's call
or pass on through
temperament and habits
hard to break
and to repel this melody
so makes me quake
Such spectral beauty
lays within it's frame
and so brightly burns
it's blissful flame
In thanks and praise
to my God above
for the gift of knowing
God is love
Ps 34:18 Ps 139:23 Ps 4:4 1Jn 4:7-21
COPYRIGHT © 2009 C Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC
("Earth", 1979, original pen and ink)
Missing the Mark
As they say, this world is full of sin:
the meaning of Life a target we continually miss
out of carelessness and habit.
This is the root of crime, which theft is the most basic form of;
murder, rape, arson, kidnap, assault and robbery, even defamation,
all involving stealing something that isn’t ours and wasn’t freely given.
Justified perhaps in the name of justice, personal or social,
or simply survival, we habitually treat the world as ours
for the taking and defending.
But beneath this action of theft
lies the outlook of dishonesty;
the motivation and intention to fool others and ourselves.
This is the lie that the world is full of,
the flaw in our nature that causes us to habitually
miss the mark.
Ignorance, after all,
implies we are ignoring
something we know to be true.
The one thing about habits is while they are tough to break
they are only formed by repeated actions and so able to be changed
through different actions when we find a different ground to start from.
Of course, this is easier said than done, but maybe the trick to the training
doesn’t rely on someone telling us what or how to do,
but simply making the target so close it is impossible to miss.
So close it can be touched with our finger
held in the palm of our hand,
or kissed with our lips.
These are the little things
we can, and do, do
that make all the difference.
This may seem to take all the sport out of it
after all, what is the point of a target if it isn’t a challenge,
if it is already right at hand.
But what is the point of living
a life of pain and frustration
from habitually missing the mark.
If we’re honest with ourselves we’ll be grateful
for the bird in hand, and let the two in the bush
go about living their own lives.
(12/8/23)
We dump waste
To recycle, remade or reuse
But we hide our feelings deep in the heart
Never mean for recycling
Happiness to be appreciated, to be remembered
And sadness to be discarded
Or to be transformed into an experience or a lesson
We keep our knowledge in mind
Never to be polished after retirement
But the world is changing every minute
Some old knowledge have to be
Recycled, improved, reused or discarded
We adopted old habits and beliefs
Without ever dropping them
But old habits and beliefs have to be sieved
Those beneficial and true remain
Recycling will yield experience, new knowledge and truth
Which will indeed lead to a happier life
HABITS
We wake up in the morning,
Our memory, collecting storing,
The same data over, and over again,
It becomes entrenched – a habit is due,
What triggers habits, just a simple cue!
We pass a highway that we know well
And put our car into cruise mode, swell,
This is routine, and we follow this road
For there is a reward,
We will shortly arrive at a place,
To which we associate a particular face,
And we store this for it feels good,
We now have adopted a habit,
That’s understood!
A repetitive gym advert
On TV, is yet another cue,
We lace up our sneakers, lay out our
Clothes, kiss husband goodbye
So long Hugh!
This has become routine,
For in a week or two
Our reward is due,
We will feel bran new
When we stand on our scale,
Which now tells a new tale!
A few more kilos you will
Have shed, we love this new
Routine, wow it is working
And without even shirking,
One gym lesson, we love the reward,
We once hated gym,
Now we never get bored,
And besides feeling healthy
We make our lives lengthy.
But some habits beware,
Cause strain, so refrain,
For these habits try to engulf
Us with guilt,
But our willpower will
Overpower guilt, if well built,
Willpower is the conscious mind,
And alerts us if we intend,
To be unkind,
So hurrah for the conscious,
We heartily cheer,
But the unconscious is
What brought us here,
To crossroads between the two,
Everyone differs in their view.
We must therefore
First think everything through,
For we adopt habits by
Storing more information,
And progressively throughout,
Each generation,
Embrace many a new habit,
But sometimes
Just do not grab it!
Psychiatrists forge forward
What a dilemma,
To find answers, neither
Altered or awkward!
Wrote this poem after having read he Power of HABIT by Charles Duhigg.
Fighting change is fighting progress holding me back even longer,
Find myself going in circles like a hamster wheel in motion,
I'm tired of the struggle, trapped in a cage
Break me out of my selfish ways,
Change my focus and change my habits
Learn something new and transform like magic.
Change my point of view
Clean out my heart and make it new,
Direct my steps like a gps
Help me to follow the path you have set.
I want to know you more, got to work hard with all I have,
And do my best with no regrets stop living out of my past
And fix what I can instead of questioning your plan.
It's my desire to change so help me change,
So I can live the life you gave to me
Worry free with you and your truth.
Replace my errors with your love
And clean out my heart
I want a fresh start.
You are changing me
Forever changing me
From the inside out
I need you to change me.
I'm searching for a newer me
Not what I used to be
Looking for something
That changes my identity.
I'm trying to avoid it,
But change is a process that can't be avoided,
It's something that comes with making choices.
Continuing in my old tracks is not the move
It’s choosing to lie rather than tell the truth.
I want to reflect you in the best way
But I can't if I run away.
You are the light that guides my steps
You are the one who knows what's best.
Lead me by your light
Cast out my fears like shadows in sunlight.
So many times I feel like just giving up
I need guidance on how to strengthen my weak spots
And keep my head up.
I know you're always there through it all
Ready to catch me when I fall.
Like a support system you always have my back
When I feel lost you get me back on track.
Stop fighting the thing that I so greatly need
A process that can bring me peace.
I need to change, expose me to my new identity
Flip the switch in my heart so I can restart.
You are changing me
Forever changing me
From the inside out
I need you to change me.
I'm searching for a newer me
Not what I used to be
Looking for something
That changes my identity.
Wishes can add comfort to midnight dreams
'Can Do Spirits' ignite success, it seems
Divine Providence removes sacred cows
And old habits and ways are not allowed
Changes are known to often cause us pain
Changes will uproot lots of traditions
Successful change requires strong convictions
When opportunity knocks, doors must swing
Winds change their direction and often sing.
If winds change their direction, why not me?
We can change and be what we want to be
111820PSCtest, Winds Of Change, John Hamilton 10 syllables per line that ends with a rhyme